


The Raven’s Hammer

by Pathstrider



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Badass Dwarf Women, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf Women, Dwarves, Fantasy, Long, Long Shot, Magic, Ravens, Warlocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pathstrider/pseuds/Pathstrider
Summary: In exchange for the ability to save her clan, the Raven Queen offers the young Dwarf woman, Baerlyn, a position of service.
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

Baerlyn awoke with a start from the nightmare.

She sat up, aching from the early morning chill. She had made camp in a clearing, the small fire nothing more than some cold embers now. “Thank you, Draga.” The bird rumbled a gentle response, the sound like the grating of small stones.  
Her raven, Draga, had been the one to wake her. She didn't seem to need rest like other creatures, which was especially useful when Baerlyn had to sleep. The bird had come to her shortly after she left Craghold, her clan’s ancestral home.

It had been three months now, and the nightmare of that day still came to her more often than not.  
The bird’s voice warbled, “Dead dream?” and Baerlyn nodded in response. They could communicate mind to mind, but Draga knew Baerlyn liked to speak normally when possible. The forest clearing grew increasingly full of the sounds of the forest. But all Baerlyn could hear was the anguished howling of the creatures that had come from deep in the mountain. She didn't smell the earth and flowers, but instead the metallic scent of blood, thick in the air.

 _You saved them._ She told herself. _It was worth it._

“Same as every night.” She replied, breathing deeply, offering up a silent prayer to Moradin for the coming day. She may have left her ancestral hall, but her traditions stayed. They were her reminder of home. Draga cawed, eager to be on their way.  
Baerlyn didn’t have much experience with birds prior to Draga. None at all, really. So she wasn’t sure if the mimicking voice was a common trait. None of the others she had heard so far had tried to speak with her, anyway. Baerlyn closed her eyes, still able to see her camp. Even with her eyes closed, she could see. Draga’s eyes and ears were extensions of her own now.  
“Alright, let’s go.” Her bedroll was quick to pack, and soon Baerlyn was walking back towards the forest path. Draga flapped above the tree line, coasting along on the morning breeze. The sun was rising, and Baerlyn had work to do.


	2. The Descent

The echoes of hammers and picks have filled the Craghold Caverns ever since the first Dwarf stepped into them. The sound of metal on stone was the heartbeat of the mountain, a neverending pulse of life. These were the stones that were shaped by Baerlyn’s ancestors, and each held memories. 

Her mother, Barah, and eldest brother, Dharlir, spent days working with gems and precious stones in the craft hall. Her father, Drathli, worked alongside the smiths and builders. Each was accomplished in their craft.

That left her youngest brother, Dragir. He would spend his day learning the necessary skills all Dwarves had to know from different clan members. He was almost 19, and much closer in age to Baerlyn than most Dwarf siblings. She had only turned 37 at the start of summer. Dharlir was well on his way 80 before Baerlyn was born.

Baerlyn spent most of her time working in the ‘Green Cavern,’ which holds a garden that helps supplement trade with other settlements. She looked at the garden like her father looked at the mines. He harvested stone and ore, while she unearthed the root vegetables hiding in the soil, or the fruits that grew like rubies shining against the emerald leaves. Baerlyn entertained the idea of becoming a healer, but she still had time to declare her chosen craft.

But this morning was different. A week ago, there had been a tremor that came from deep in the mountain’s roots. Teams of workers had gone through each mineshaft and cave, checking to see if anything needed repair. Last night, one of the crews came back with news- the shift in the stone had opened a new vein. The vein was nearly as deep as the Buried Hall-- where each of the clan’s ancestors had been returned to the mountain after death. 

Baerlyn’s father had woke early, “This is a gift from our forefathers, a reward for our work. Moradin’s hammer guides us.” He, and many others, had gone to prepare the new mine. Even Dragir had gone. He was much too young for most of the work, but there were tasks that he could help with. The clan members who hadn’t gone were busy preparing food and other supplies for the workers, with Baerlyn grabbing one of the first baskets. 

She began the long descent, eager to see the work being done. With each step, the heartbeat of the mountain grew louder. 


	3. When the Hammer Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of violence and blood

Baerlyn was glad she had dressed lightly. She was already sweating halfway to the worksite. She passed a few workers on the way who were setting up ways to lift the mined ore up to the forges. She was finally to the staging area, rolling her eyes as she heard raised voices. It wasn’t even midday, and already they were bickering. Probably about the best or fastest way to work. It was odd. There was a smell like her father’s hands after a day of work. Or when hunters brought back an elk.

It hit her all at once. The silence. The deafening silence. Baerlyn looked down, realizing she had dropped the basket. Her breath hitched, gasping as if she had just broken the surface of water after being submerged. What was happening?  _ “Calm down. Find the reason.”  _ She clapped her hands together and did it again when no sound reached her ears. Someone grabbed her, and she might have screamed if she could. She was face to face with one of her cousins, blood down the side of his face. He was pulling her away, and she struggled to tell if the blood was his. 

The spell broke, and the air was full of screams and agonized howling. Baerlyn wished for the silence again, anything to stop the noise. She pointed towards the stairs, towards safety, pushing her cousin towards them. 

“Go! Go! Get the healers!” He was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t hear him. He went out of the room and added the bellowing note of an alarm horn. There was a snarling, and Baerlyn moved just in time to avoid one of the creatures. It was rotted, reeking of decay. Old blood splattered against the stone as one of the workers slammed a hammer against its skull. 

The room was filled with Dwarves, some having to be dragged in by the others. The urge to be sick rose in her, but there wasn’t time for that. There wasn’t time for anything. She grabbed the nearest of her Clan and helped him towards the stairs. There would be time to think later. 

She could see others now, rushing towards the fighting. She turned back, running into the fight. It was her uncle this time, Thulnar. He was always laughing, and likely half-crazed, according to her mother. But right now, he was grasping his arm, which was bending at an unnatural angle. Baerlyn tore off her work apron, fingers quickly tying the fabric into a sling. She managed to help him up, moving him towards the doors. Her boots stuck against the floor as she walked, leaving tracked blood wherever she went.

The howling from before ripped through the yelling, and Baerlyn looked up to see the creature. She couldn’t make sense of it, the teeth, the eyes. Another hand grabbed her, and she rushed back, expecting another cousin. But when she met his eyes, they stared blankly at her. They were almost like opals, clouded and shining. 

He snarled as the corpse had, and she shoved him away. She staggered back, tripping over one of the bodies. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t her cousin anymore. It prepared to lunge at her, only to be met with a familiar hammer. It was her father. He pulled her back to her feet.

“Ada! What’s happening?” The remaining workers had started to block the opening, trying to hold the creatures back. 

“Some sickness, a curse- There was some mage, but Thulnar hit him.” Her father’s face had a look on it that Baerlyn hadn’t seen before. He was worried. He rested his hand on her cheek. “You’re strong. Help the others get to safety.” She nodded, looking for who to grab next. Most were still in the fight, but no one had been ready for this attack. 

“Where’s Dragir?” Her father was already back in the fight, but where was her brother? “Dragir!” He barely had a beard and should have stood out among the elder clan. Maybe he had rushed past her in the initial chaos, but wouldn’t he have seen her?

“Fall back to the hall!” Baerlyn pushed against the crowd, calling out for her brother. She saw fallen dwarves stand and was elated that they were still alive- only to be met with their opal eyes. The eyes that matched the shining pairs in the darkness behind them. 

There were too many, and even if they could hold the hall, the creatures would still be here. How long could the clan withstand the attack? That’s when she saw it- the support pillars. If one fell, the rock would fall with it. It would trap the creatures inside... including the one who destroyed it. 

Baerlyn ignored the voices behind her as she picked up a hammer. 

She gripped the weapon and ran forwards, ignoring the flares of pain when one of the creatures lashed out at her. She slammed the hammer into the stone, cracking it. But it wasn’t enough. Again the hammer fell. She begged Moradin to help her as she picked the hammer up a third time. A loud crack split the air as the rock above began to weaken. Baerlyn cried out as a sharp pain spread through her arm. The beast, the creature. Its teeth snapped in her ear. 

She knew that she was going to die. But she wasn’t going alone. The beast drew back an arm, slashing it towards her. She dropped to the floor, and the bone claw smashed across the pillar where she had been standing. The roof of the cavern cracked in response, and she looked out to where her clan fought. The creatures fell beneath their hammers, and she smiled. Stone tumbled down, trapping herself and the beast inside. 

Her clan was safe. 


	4. The Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer one, but the last ones were super short, so... it's just balanced now, right?

The Dwarves of Craghold worked to help those who were injured. Plans were made to inspect for any other openings that might allow more of the undead creatures inside. Word was sent to the other Dwarven Holds, additional warriors requested.

As the news of the attack was settling, another story began to emerge. The story of a young Dwarf, charging into danger to protect the clan. The same Dwarf who had called for the alarm to be raised, who dragged her fallen family to safety. 

Even as the tears fell, pride filled their chests. One of their youngest had shown great bravery and would surely be welcomed with open arms into Moradin’s Forge. His wife, Berronar, the Revered Mother, had seen fit to inspire their young Baerlyn to act. The actions of one had saved many. 

Even as Baerlyn lay drawing her last breath, a song of mournful praise was taken up among the elders. But Baerlyn could not hear. For her, Craghold was silent.

The stones had fallen as she had intended, completely blocking off the entrance. Even if they began to remove the stone immediately, she knew it would be hours before anyone would find her. By then, it would be too late. The rites would be performed, her bones would rest alongside those of her ancestors. She was so cold, but the pain was gone. That was a blessing. 

Thoughts flickered through her mind of the life she might have had. Would she have become a healer, using her garden to aid the sick? Would she have joined her father at the forge, learning the knowledge that had been passed down through her family since the first Dwarf stepped from the mountains? She might have married, but that would have been decades away. More than half a century, at least. 

Another image flickered into view. A pale face in the dark. Fear gripped her heart. Was it another creature? A beast that would tear through the stone until it found her remaining clan? Fearful thoughts raced until the figure extended a hand to her cheek. The hand was cold, colder than Baerlyn was. She felt the fear begin to slip away, even as she looked into the expressionless mask. 

The figure’s eyes… Baerlyn thought the cave had been dark, but these were darker still. She could fall into those eyes and their seemingly endless expanse. Distant specks of light were in that abyss, scattered like diamonds. Was this what the night sky was like? The chasm of darkness was terrible and beautiful.

_“You weren’t meant to be here.”_

“Are-” Baerlyn’s throat ached, her voice coming out as a harsh whisper. “Are you one of them?” The woman’s hair was black, loosely falling and disappearing into the shadows that surrounded them both. “How many are there?”

_"No. But even now, I can sense these abominations swarming beneath our feet. Someone dares desecrate the natural order to call upon the powers of death itself. I detest such beings.”_ Her voice was like obsidian, smooth, dark, and razor-sharp if Baerlyn slipped in what she said next. 

“Then I greet you as a friend and ally, O’ Great One. ” Baerlyn got the sense that this had been a good thing to say. It felt like this figure was as tall as the highest mountains. And Baerlyn was so very, very small. She imagined a sky full of ravens. In the distance, a strange castle emerged from rock and shadow. The sight of it caused such grief, an anguishing sadness to grip Baerlyn’s lifeless heart. 

The Raven Queen- that’s who stood in front of her- caught one of Baerlyn’s tears on a fingertip. The drop began to glow with the same light that filled those distant windows. “ _Exquisite, isn’t it? You do have such beautiful pain. Such enchanting sadness.”_

Baerlyn felt the grief lessen as the drop vanished. Even the memory of why she was crying slipped away. Baerlyn looked into the Raven Queen’s face again, as expressionless as ever. “You said I wasn’t supposed to have been there.”

_“I suppose you are going to ask me to return you to life. That painful, broken body of yours buried beneath the stones.”_

Baerlyn shook her head, “No. From the Mountain I came, and to the Mountain I should return. It is the way of things.” She had the Raven Queen’s consideration. Baerlyn hoped she could keep her interest for a moment longer.

_“You defied what I had foreseen. Now, the future looks different.”_ The Raven Queen spoke then, still tall enough that Baerlyn looked up to her, but not so tall as a mountain. “ _Your actions, and the actions of your clan, resulted in the destruction of many of the abominations. For that, I shall offer you a reward. What is it you would ask of me?”_

Time was strange here, like a dream. A minute may have been a century. When the Raven Queen looked at her, Baerlyn got the sense that she could see all that she was, all she might have been. “I want those creatures destroyed. I want Craghold and my clan free of them.” The Raven Queen looked at her, masked face as unreadable as ever, but Baerlyn thought she was smiling. 

“ _It will be done. But why stop at your clan? What of the other Dwarven strongholds? The strongholds of men and elves?”_ Those endless eyes looked at her inquisitively, “ _Would you see them protected from such monstrosities?”_

“I would.”

“ _Would you execute my bidding and strike down the undead wherever they may arise? Will you serve me in your death as well as life?”_

Baerlyn nodded, understanding what was being offered. She was dead already. Why not ensure her death had not been in vain? “If you give me the strength to ensure my clan’s safety, I will owe you a life debt not just for myself but for them as well. As long as my clan lives, I shall aid you in your desires to cleanse the planes of undead influence.” 

_“We are in agreement.”_

Pain filled Baerlyn’s body as she breathed again. She sat up, muscles aching. But there was no blood, no broken bones. She pulled her braid over her shoulder, and everything about her body looked as it should. But now she wore traveling clothes, with a simple blue cloak trimmed in black. They fit well but were different from anything she had worn before.

There was a rustling noise, and Baerlyn looked around at the trees stretching up around her. It was the sound of the wind rustling the leaves. How had she gotten here? She thought back- home, the attack, the darkness. The utter darkness and the dream within it. She wished to see her clan safe, no matter the cost. But things were fuzzy, thoughts drifting like smoke before she could grasp them.

But she knew one thing. The creatures, and anything like it, couldn’t be allowed to continue. She felt a sense of focused purpose that was stronger than ever before. Baerlyn stood up, leaning against a tree as her head swam. Once her vision cleared, she looked out and could see a settlement in the distance, down the hill. 

The sun was rising, and there was work to do.


End file.
